


The First Sonata

by Tiara_of_Sapphires



Category: Bridgerton (TV), Bridgerton Series - Julia Quinn
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Vaginal Fingering, no beta we die like men, simon loves his wife and is always dtf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:34:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28507542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiara_of_Sapphires/pseuds/Tiara_of_Sapphires
Summary: Simon happens upon Daphne while she is composing music
Relationships: Daphne Bridgerton/Simon Basset
Comments: 17
Kudos: 541





	The First Sonata

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooo....this show has consumed my life and every single one of my remaining brain cells.....
> 
> Enjoy!

It had taken too long for Daphne, Duchess of Hastings, to get the courage to obtain some blank music sheets and start denoting the little pieces that danced in her head. Her husband happily obliged without question. She could almost hear Eloise cheering on the decision as she scrawled out the first tentative notes of a piece without a name.

It was quite a diverting hobby, especially when the stresses of running the duchy became too much to bear. Fielding tenant concerns was enough trouble to consume enough for her daily life, not to mention preparations for this visitor or that small party when the need arose.

One such day brought her to the house’s pianoforte long after dinner. She had an extra glass of wine, so she was feeling particularly consumed with the idea of actually completing a song, even giving it a name. After all, if she couldn’t name a song, how was she supposed to name a child when the time came?

She paid no heed to the time before the door creaked open. She paused to see Simon standing in the doorway. Even months after their wedding, her heart still beat a little faster every time that she caught sight of him.

“I didn’t think you would be still here, my love.”

Daphne smiled to herself, allowing her fingers to dance over the keys. She truly loved to play, beyond the required skill that respectable young ladies were supposed to have. Lord knew how Eloise liked to pester her about her compositions, though mere notes and bars strung together with little rhyme or reason.

“The tuner was here this morning. I thought to make sure that his work was correct.”

She played a scale to demonstrate, each note ringing out clear and in-tune. When she looked back at Simon, the lovely gentle smile on his face didn’t waver.

“I suppose I have been here for a bit longer than I had anticipated,” she allowed.

The candles had burned low and allowed shadows to cast about the room. There was enough light for her to not strain to read the music sheet and she could play her pianoforte even if she was blind. Even as she thought about it, she longed for her bed and her husband's embrace.

In the corner of her eye, she watched Simon approach with all the ease of the lord of the house to stand behind her.

“I don’t recognize the piece here. One of your own compositions?” he asked.

His hand skimmed over her shoulder and she caught her breath.

“Indeed. Taking some inspiration from Haydn. I thought not to take too much inspiration from Beethoven, since the gentleman is still alive.”

Simon hummed, moving close enough to press against her back. He was always so warm, even through the layers of clothes between them.

“I must say that Sir Haydn pales in comparison and Sir Beethoven would envy your skill.”

Daphne scoffed and shook her head. While she had flights of fancy, performing on stage for enraptured audiences, she knew it wasn’t meant to be. Performances for her husband and, one day, their children, would suffice.

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Your Grace,” she replied dryly.

Before she could think to start playing again, Simon leaned down to whisper, breath brushing over her ear, “On the contrary, I think flattery will get me everywhere.”

The way his voice wrapped around his words always seemed to melt her into a puddle. It really wasn’t fair what an effect he could have on her.

Still leaning over her, he reached his arms around her middle, keeping her flush against his front. Daphne pressed against him with a sigh. It was all too easy to sink into his embrace and bask in the comfort that it brought, like a cat lazing in the sun.

Such sweet metaphors evaporated as Simon’s hand skimmed down her side to pull at her dress skirt, bunching it up to her upper thigh.

“Keep playing,” he whispered.

His fingers slipped into her undergarments.

“Simon—!” she gasped.

One long finger drew across her folds, collecting the wetness there. He mouthed at the column of her throat.

“Come on, my dearest Daphne,” Simon teased. “Keep playing for me.”

It felt like a joke, as if Simon didn’t already know that when he touched her like that, her ability to think or do anything outside the realm of lovemaking was nonexistent. But, if her husband wanted to play this little game of his, then she would oblige. She stared down at her hands, struggling to bring the simplest of sonatas to mind as her husband slowly began to drive her mad.

She picked the simplest piece she could think of, relying on the memory of how her hands would move along the keys. It was soft and melodic. She could probably play it backwards if she had her wits about her. Her hands kept shaking and missing the right notes when Simon’s fingers moved just right.

“So beautiful,” Simon said. She knew that he wasn’t talking about the music.

Her hands curled over the keys, making a discordant sound, as Simon’s fingers curled inside of her. It almost drowned out the sweet words Simon whispered into her skin and the obscene sound of his fingers moving inside of her.

“I—,” Daphne whispered. One hand left the keys to grab onto his wrist, the other holding on to the old wood of the pianoforte for dear life as she got closer and closer to that wonderful precipice.

She mewled, loud and unabashed, shaking with her release. She could barely hear what crashing, ugly sound her fist made as it slapped against the pianoforte.

His fingers slipped out of her as she caught her breath.

“Well, while I may not be an expert in such things, I think you make the finest music,” Simon said.

Daphne turned in her seat and arched a brow at the rakish, self-satisfied grin on his face. If he hadn’t just brought her such bliss, she would have pinched him for such a comment.

Instead, she reached for the tie on his breeches, determined to make this song a duet.

**Author's Note:**

> Tada! And I already have 2 more ideas rattling around in my brain!
> 
> Comments and kudos are appreciated!


End file.
